Deus Necros

“I don’t have time to waste with you,” Ludwig said as he looked up, “Things are about to get ugly in here. I’ve barely bought a few days of time, I’ll keep you company the next time.”

The frozen pier creaked beneath his boots, the brazier behind him hissing as the half-frozen sea scraped against itself in dull groans. Able’s pressure hung over the hamlet like a predator’s shadow, quiet enough that the fishermen only shifted uneasily without knowing why.

Able snorted, “If you say so. Quite interesting, seeing the one Celine is speaking so highly of be this kind of… person.” His voice carried the lazy edge of insult, drifting just close enough to make a man want to reach for its throat. The pause before the last word was deliberate, sharpened without needing to be explained.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ludwig frowned. His hand twitched near his coat, not reaching for a weapon yet, but close enough that Kaiser noticed. The insult had landed. Not deeply, but enough to scratch.

“I said what needs be said. I’ve seen the thing that’s beyond the rims, you won’t be able to face it. Not with this temperament.” Able’s gaze moved toward the mountains, where the white ridges stood like the edge of the world. The words had weight because the vampire had actually seen what was coming. Not rumors. Not church reports. The thing itself.

“He’s ragebaiting me, isn’t he?” Ludwig told Kaiser.

“Yeah, he’s trying to rile you up.” Kaiser answered without hesitation, watching Able with the calm focus of someone studying two volatile substances placed too close together.

“It’s working a bit. But like I said,” Ludwig pulled out Nightbreaker and placed it bottom down, both hands on the pommel.

The mace emerged from the lantern’s storage with a weight that changed the mood immediately. The pentagonal faced mace with spikes rested on the boards. Its weight alone making it creak.

“I don’t got time for this, and I’ll probably blow half this town if I got serious, the thing is, your someone who looks like I need to get serious against.”

The hamlet was too fragile. The people too close. A fight here would turn the pier, huts, and anyone unlucky enough to be nearby into splinters and bodies.

Ludwig’s eyes lit up blue for a fraction of a second.

[Inspect]

[Able Dracul]

[Level: 447]

Status Effects: {Starved} {Blood Deprived} {Ashen} {True Vampirism}

Abilities: ???

Lore: A direct descendant of the bloodline of the first vampire Alucard Dracul. Nothing much is known about him but for the fact that he once slew one of the Usurpers. Greedful Death.

Able immediate switched stance, “What did you just do?” One moment he stood relaxed and mocking, the next his weight shifted, shoulders loose, chin lowered. Not fear. Recognition. Something had touched information he had not offered, and old predators did not like being read.

“I inspected you. Basically, I got to understand a bit about you. Without you needing to tell me.” Ludwig replied. He kept his hands on Nightbreaker, letting the explanation stay simple. The skill stripped away performance. Name, level, condition, history. Able might wear sailor clothes and sell opium on a frozen pier, but the screen had named what he was clearly enough.

Able frowned. He did not deny it, which told Ludwig more than a denial would have.

“You’re a descendant of Alucard. Though I have no idea what that is, the name itself is pretty strong. A progenitor I believe.” Ludwig said, watching Able’s eyes. Alucard Dracul. Even without context, the title had weight. First vampire. Bloodline origin. One of those names history either feared, worshipped, or buried.

This further made Able wary. His fingers flexed once at his side, nails darkening briefly before returning to normal. Small reaction. Enough.

“And you look like you’ve been starving for a really long time… Interesting, I thought vampires needed to feed regularly.” Ludwig’s eyes moved over Able again, matching what the system had shown with what stood before him.

True Vampirism.

The man looked composed, but beneath the surface was a dry stillness, a hunger held so long it had become part of his body.

“That goes only for the weak. I don’t need to drink to use my strength, I’m strong enough as is.” Able’s pride returned, colder and more direct. He said it like fact, not boast. Maybe it was. Maybe he had clawed his way past ordinary vampiric need, or broken himself past it.

“For someone who slew a Usurper, yes, you’re strong,” Ludwig said, “But I’ve killed three. I’m stronger.” The declaration came out blunt and naturally. Wrath. Envy. Pride. He had died enough times doing it that if anyone called it luck, violence would become a reasonable reply.

Notifications showed up immediately after Ludwig spoke those words.

[You have reconfirmed your Self-Evident Truth!]

[You feel power permeating your flesh and bones.]

[The backlash will be experienced in a more powerful way if you break your Truth.]

’This is getting uglier.’ The Crown answered again, invisible thorns tightening with a cold bite. Power moved through him, not like mana, but like reality adjusting around the statement. The warning sat like a hook in his gut. The stronger the truth, the harsher the punishment if he failed to uphold it.

“That’s the guardian’s weapon…” Able said. His gaze had shifted to Nightbreaker, recognition cutting through his hostility. The mace rested between them, too heavy for the pier and too brutal for the hamlet.

“Usurper, not guardian, but yes, and this is another Usurper’s eyes,” Ludwig said as his eyes turned Purple, “And this is Pride’s crown,” The purple of Envy bled into his gaze, and the faint thorn markings across his brow showed beneath his hair. The crown sat there like a scar made by authority instead of ink.

Three powerful tools, three powerful enemies, all slain. A hidden threat and a clear assessment.

“So, you still want a go at it?” Ludwig asked. Nightbreaker remained planted before him, and Self Evident Truth still hummed beneath his skin. Kaiser watched from the side, calm enough to be annoying.

“Fine,” Able sighed, “It’ll really ruin this place if we fight,” he looked toward Solania, “But you’re going there? the Hero is there. If they sense your dark magic.” His sigh sounded like resignation, not fear. His warning was practical, and that made it worth hearing. Solania was a city of priests, paladins, wards, and holy authority. Ludwig walking in with dark magic, undead nature, a lich companion, Pride’s crown, Envy’s eyes, and Necros’s lantern was less infiltration and more a theological crime waiting to be noticed.

“I have my ways,” Ludwig said as he placed a hand on his lantern, enabling its illusion effects. The lantern’s glass warmed under his fingers, its inner flame shifting from pale soul-light to something softer. The veil spread outward, not transforming him, but reinterpreting him.

Immediately all the pressure around Ludwig, including the authority simply vanished. One moment his presence bent the air around the brazier, and the next he felt almost normal. Less sharp. Less visible. Even Kaiser who was next to him seemed to have a subtle change to his presence. The lich’s deathly nature tucked itself behind the lantern’s illusion like a blade hidden under cloth.

“Hmm,” Kaiser said holding his right arm up, “Feels like something changed. Even the Red Finger became normal looking,” he looked at Ludwig, “My Lantern never was this strong…”

“That’s because I was a dutiful worker of Necros,” Ludwig said. Dutiful worker. Slave. Hunting dog. Apostle. Whatever title people wanted to use, the result was the same. He did terrible jobs for Death and occasionally got paid in cursed benefits.

Able sighed, “Celine will return to this place tonight, if you want to wait.” He said. The hostility had cooled, though not vanished. Information was progress, even wrapped in suspicion.

“No need,” Ludwig replied, “Just tell her I’m here, I’ll be heading to Solania.” Ludwig added and began moving away after placing Nightbreaker back into his lantern. The mace vanished with a heavy absence, and the pier boards groaned in relief.

Able remained standing on the pier, with what looked like a questioning look; but he never pressed for answers. Perhaps he had too many. Perhaps he had decided Ludwig would either survive long enough to answer them later or die before the answers mattered.

He kept watch as Ludwig walked the snowfield toward Solania, where the forces of the Holy Order were gathered, and where humans were preparing to fight against something that could easily obliterate their entire civilization with a mere whim and order.

The holy towers gleamed through the gray air, beautiful and cold, surrounded by walls, prayers, soldiers, and lies. Somewhere beyond them waited the Hero, the Pope, the shadow of Sloth, and a disaster marching down from the mountains.

Ludwig pulled his cloak tighter out of habit rather than need and kept walking. Time was short, and Solania had no idea how little of it remained.